songs of silences

deformed putty pink

robbed of warm breath

contorted sweet necks
tar bubble eyes bulging

frail unfeathered waxy torn

foiled unsung tiny raptors

never will gush
broad kite wings against the wind

meander upon the thermals

dead
before
winter’s white bone chanced a kill
stuffed down bright 
spring’s dark bosom

stalks cradled
strapped with dried fall grass

gentle summer kisses will not carry
overlapping notes 
sung in threes

new harmonies in pubescent throats

echoing from fresh limb to sailing cloud

undeveloped triplets all

delicate melodies
small and quieted

in the driveway
sad little chicks

stilled
 baby birds
in her songs of silences
nature candidly reminds us

she is both
judge and jury
warblerI wish this piece wasn’t here or anywhere else – but I hope it serves as a eulogy
for those baby birds – may they fly in eternal peace

art created last year for an illustrated project